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Thursday, October 30, 2003

not porn, people

Here's but a small taste of the kind of e-mail response I get to my online journal (aside from all you nice people out there who e-mail me--smooches, nice people!) because of the title "The Underwear Drawer"

The e-mail address. On first glance, the eye, trying to make sense of this random string of letters and characters, may read "weirdo4fly," but the address is in fact "weirdo4lyf," or, in English, "weirdo for life." Give me weirdness, or give me death! The man, he has taken a stand. (Not to generalize, but, come on, of course it's a man.)

The body of the text. All caps, because the man, he demands our attention. And poor spelling, also demanding our attention. "Ah may not be schooled good, but I know how ta use this here compooter, that's fer shore."

So I believe he's saying to "send me pics of you in all of your underwear." What a strange request. Not just in my underwear, but in all of my underwear. Doesn't he know that women have a lot of underwear? This is not a slick come-on, not a "what are you wearing?" standard lecher line. This is saying, "I want to see you piled up to your chin in sensible cotton briefs and soft cup bras, with only your eyes peeking out of a hole at the top of the mound of fabric because you are buried in a pile of ALL YOUR UNDERWEAR. Yeah. Hot.

I'm not going to change the name of my journal, but can I tell you that I get e-mails like this all the time? Also from various retailers from around the globe that would like me to please buy their special brand of underwear for my online drawer store. People, for the last time. I am not porn. I am not Victoria's Secret. Not that I would object to making all that money, I just find that "Angels" ad campaign fucking annoying. Plus their bras fit crappy anyway.